“I need more,” Aoife said, to his surprise, when he stopped. He began spanking again. He placed another dozen hard swats on her sit spots, then stopped. Still her hips rocked, begging for more. She hadn’t had the release she needed so he kept spanking until the tears came. Although she was crying, Aoife wasn’t begging for him to stop. But he could see she had enough, her tears the sign of relief. He took her in his arms.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you. So, now are you going to tell me why you needed that so much?”
“I keep making such a mess of things. I had two incredible friends, Fiona and you, and I messed up both. Even tonight, I didn’t want to go to the party, because I didn’t want to face you. Fiona had to drag me there,” Aoife said between sobs. He fished a tissue out of the box on her bedside locker and wiped her eyes and nose.
“Stop that. Now! Fiona did drag you there, so I presume things are okay between the two of you again, right?”
Aoife nodded her agreement. He continued, “And a lot of what you said about me, I think was justified, even if I didn’t see it at the time. I needed the wake-up call. Okay?” Aoife looked doubtful and opened her mouth, but he didn’t give her a chance to reply. He could see from her face she wanted to argue her guilt, so he smothered her words with his mouth. Her lips were soft and salty from her tears but she responded urgently, accepting his tongue greedily. He lay her back on the bed, climbing atop her. Kissing her. Tasting her. Owning her.
She parted her legs to accept him in between. Her sex glistened with arousal. Her scent filled his head, coaxing him.
“You’re not going to believe this, but I have no condoms, I wasn’t expecting this. Not tonight.”
“It’s okay, I’m still using the coil and…” She stopped talking, blushing at whatever was going on in her head.
“And what?”
“Well, um, you’re the only person I’ve been with since I had all those tests. So it should be okay,” Aoife admitted, flustered and blushing. It was as good as a confession; he had gotten under her skin. She hadn’t wanted anyone since. That made him feel amazing! He held her by the hips as his cock found its way to her moist swollen labia and she pushed back, swallowing him up. Her pussy sucked him in deep. It felt like home, like he was meant to be there. He thrust slowly at first, simply savouring the delights that he had yearned for so long. Aoife started rocking back and forth, demanding more.
“Slow down, little lady,” he warned. When she ignored his command he repeated it, more sharply and she obeyed temporarily. When she started upping the ante again, Matt didn’t waste times with warnings. He moistened his forefinger in his mouth and pressed it against her bottom hole, breaching the tight ring very slightly. Aoife gasped in protest but her body screamed out for more as her pussy flooded. He pushed farther and her body clenched around him; his finger and cock were squeezed as her whole pelvic region exploded in orgasm.
“Now tell me you don’t like discipline,” Matt growled triumphantly. He removed his finger and grabbed onto her hips again, fucking hard and deep. She continued to pulsate around his shaft and he knew his own orgasm was imminent. As Aoife shuddered and tightened around him again, his seed forced its way deep into her channel, claiming her for his own.
Chapter Twelve
Aoife and Matt had had one wonderful week before he had to leave for Tunisia. Then six weeks of absence, with only sporadic emails between them as he couldn’t always get access to the Internet. With every news report of the escalating tensions in Libya and Algeria, Aoife had been sickened. Tunisia was stuck right between the two. The six weeks had seemed like forever, and whenever there was a long delay between emails, she dreaded turning on the TV. She killed her time with work and training for a mini-marathon. Pounding along the track was the surest way to shut off her thoughts.
As the six weeks came to a close, Aoife was filled with a different fear. What if he didn’t want her anymore? Or what if she couldn’t settle into a real relationship with someone—what if her self-destruct button kicked in and she pushed him away? This was a totally new fear to Aoife; she had never wanted someone to mean more than a fling and it was scary.
Standing in arrivals in Gatwick Airport for what seemed like an eternity, Aoife’s fear began to run amok. Her instinct was to take flight. She rooted herself to the spot and tried to think of anything to keep still. His flight had landed an hour earlier and there was still no sign of Matt. She knew it, he was having second thoughts. What if he had managed to get past without her noticing him and he had already gone? She managed to hold on for another fifteen minutes, but then doubt got the better of her. She turned to leave, holding back her tears until she at least got into a taxi.
She had just reached the top of the taxi queue when her phone rang.
“I was held up by customs. Sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. They wouldn’t let me make a call,” Matt said and the tears that had been threatening finally flowed, but from relief. She legged it back into the airport. He was easy to spot, in spite of his new beard and moustache and longer hair. His skin was almost black, evidence that most of his clinics had indeed been held outdoors like he had told her. He dropped his bag and held his arms open, waiting to envelop her. He felt so damn good.
“I thought you’d run out on me,” Aoife admitted.
“Never… anyway, it would be a waste of time, I’ve seen how fast you can run,” Matt answered. “Christ, I missed you. I wanted to come home as soon as I got there.”
The cab ride was a happier affair after that; they were like a couple of lovesick teenagers, touching and kissing one another. His facial hair tickled her nose.
“That beard has got to go,” she giggled.
“It will. It was easier to have it out there with the water shortages.” It seemed forever before they made it to Matt’s apartment, hunger for more making Aoife needy.
Matt threw his bags down inside the door and pushed Aoife up against the wall, tugging on her hair, plunging her mouth with his tongue.
“Hey, if I dumped my things like that you’d spank me,” Aoife protested when he came up for air.
“You and your wanton ways made me do it, so I am still going to spank you,” he growled. Aoife made a dash for it, giggling, but he trapped her in a corner easily and dragged her, protesting half-heartedly, to the bedroom. He dragged her across his lap.
“I wouldn’t just run out on you,” he chastised. “Why would I do that? I’ve loved you for years.”
To her amazement, his announcement didn’t scare her. It made her feel warm in a way she had never felt before. When his hand fell down on her fully clothed behind, it was more welcome than any kiss. Even as he kept it up, pulling her jeans and panties down, the pain was pleasure. This was what they were. She realised it was Matt’s way of owning her, of keeping her safe. She gave in to the sting and the heat as he upped the spanking. The glow rushed through her whole nether regions, even as she wanted to escape the pain.
“If I have to spank you ‘til kingdom come to make you see how much you mean to me, I will,” he threatened before landing another volley on her behind.
“No, I believe you. I’m sorry I doubted you. I was scared,” Aoife managed to blurt out between spanks and tears. He guided her up to a sitting position.
“You don’t have a monopoly on fear. I’m scared I’ll screw it up too,” he admitted. “We’ve wasted so many years already.”
“They weren’t a waste, we both had to grow up and wait for the time to be right,” Aoife said, kissing him.
“Is the time right now?”
“I think it is, Matt.” She didn’t get to add anything else, his mouth was on hers and he had pushed her back on the bed. He pulled her half-mast jeans and panties off altogether and undid his own trousers, claiming her in a frenzy, both still half clothed. Urgency was the order of the day, both desperate in their need to possess and be possessed by the other. Frenzied though it was, it was honest and pure, motivated by love and yearning rather than by pure
lust. But it wasn’t enough to satisfy either of their longings and before she knew it, Matt was swelling again. This time she removed both his shirt and her top and bra. She wanted to feel skin on skin. He looked amazing, tanned and healthy although she was relieved to see enough white spots to know he had been keeping some parts for her eyes only.
“Someone’s been feeling neglected,” Aoife teased as his cock grew back to life in her hand. She idly stroked it up and down, watching as it became more and more engorged. When he groaned, she gripped it firmly, massaging it. Matt reached for her clit.
“My turn,” she protested, slapping his hand away. She moved down in the bed and took him in her mouth. She could taste both him and her, their joint essence so different to his alone. The oneness of it, of them as a new entity, turned her on. She took him in as deep as she could, wanting all of him, fucking him with her mouth.
“Stop, I don’t want to come,” he gasped as she trailed back up his member, scratching the shaft lightly with her teeth. She ignored his protests; he might not want to come, but she wanted to make him lose control. She sucked and thrust harder and faster until she felt a fizzing in his cock. She knew he was swollen to eruption point so she moved faster and prepared to accept his seed in her mouth. He tensed beneath her, and once more tried to pull her head away. But she just thrust harder and he spurted his semen with a fierce intensity deep into her throat. She swallowed and grinned triumphantly as he slumped with the aftermath of pleasure.
“You do realise you’re going to pay for that later?”
“I’m sure I will. But not until after you shave that damn beard.”
Most of the time, Aoife had to admit it was totally amazing to have someone to care for her. Especially someone who knew her, warts and all. Aoife never had to pretend with Matt. Okay, he was a lot different from the quiet, almost geeky boy she had grown up with, but even that shared history made it easier. The new more assertive Matt was way sexier, while still the protective, soppy, boy next door put in an appearance once in a while when she needed it. She liked the peeks at his old self, especially because she knew that not many would ever see it. It came out in the little things, like when she was reading when she was tired, and she struggled with word recognition if she came across an unfamiliar word. He always seemed to notice it and help her out, not condescendingly or impatiently, but with easiness of familiarity. And he knew when she had been talking to her parents, she never had to tell him, but somehow he always ended up wordlessly massaging away the tension from her shoulders. Or if she was really wound up, he knew she needed a good hard spanking and fuck to push them out of her mind, to make her focus on the better things. There were even times when she wondered if he had her damn phone bugged because as soon as he saw her he’d see it.
She’d asked him about it.
“I know because you look like you used to look sometimes. You shrink your head into your shoulders. I always knew that look meant you were in trouble at home,” he’d told her. It touched her that he remembered. She’d always wondered why he’d seemed so kind to her on those days back then too; now she knew. He could read her like a book, and for the most part that was good.
But it wasn’t always so good. And definitely not when she just wanted to hide from the world. One particular night, they had planned to go out for dinner, then she was supposed to go back to his place. She had been looking forward to it, as usual. They didn’t often eat out mid-week, but Aoife had been awarded a certificate based on the study she had done at Matt’s and she had aced the exams and they were planning to celebrate. But then, one of the teachers from her school had really upset her. A pupil of his was being difficult and the principal had asked Aoife to see the child. The parents had made complaints of bullying by his classmates, and being picked on by his teacher, citing that as his reluctance to attend school. His teacher, Jonathon Oxley, was less than happy, taking it as a criticism of his teaching ability.
“He’s trouble. He fights with everyone,” Jonathon claimed. When Aoife asked for more specific details, Jonathon had become irate, accusing her of doubting his word.
“I’m just trying to get more information to see how we can help him; he’s seven years old, he can’t verbalise it all himself. Why do you think he is trouble? Do you think the other kids might pick on him? And if so, why? Do you ever see anything going on?”
“You’re a fine one to tell me how to manage my class, you can’t even manage yourself. I know all about you and your druggie history, Miss Devine, so don’t come the sweet innocent angel on me,” Jonathan spat at her before storming out of her room.
Trembling and nauseated, Aoife had to let the principal know what had passed. Although the principal had been raging with Mr. Oxley and had backed Aoife up, she felt abused and violated by his verbal assault, even more so than the physical assault in the rehab centre. It took all her concentration to keep her from vomiting as she realised her past had just jumped up and bitten her. And yet she knew it was defensiveness on Jonathon’s part too. By the time she had gotten rid of him, going out to celebrate was the last thing on her mind. She just wanted to crawl under the duvet and make the day end. She rang Matt and cried off the evening, saying she’d had a bad day at work and just needed to sleep. Sometimes she really wished she could say she felt sick, but that never worked with him; she needed to be more upfront.
“Oh, come on. Don’t let a bad day ruin your achievement,” Matt said when she called.
“I’m not. I’d just rather go out when I can really enjoy it.”
Matt let it go and Aoife was just climbing out of the bath, washing away the horrible feelings, and swallowing down the tears she refused to cry when her doorbell rang. She ignored it, but the person was persistent and eventually she gave in. She was mad as hell when she saw Matt outside.
“I said I just wanted to go to bed. Sometimes I just need to be alone.”
“I know you’re upset, I could hear it on the phone. You can just go to bed, but I’m coming with you. You need comfort.”
Aoife stripped off angrily and pulled on her woolliest, bulkiest pyjamas. Matt didn’t utter a sound of complaint like he usually did when she wore pyjamas. He climbed in beside her. He rubbed her shoulders and when she feigned sleep, he just continued rubbing. She wanted to be angry, but it was hard when she felt her body loosen up to his ministrations. She turned round to kiss him.
“Tell me about it,” he urged. And in spite of herself she did, tears rolling down her cheeks. Matt didn’t accuse her of being silly or touchy. Instead he said that Jonathon was a nasty bastard who obviously felt threatened when he had to attack Aoife like that.
“If the school didn’t think you were good at what you do, they would have sacked you back when you were in the hospital,” he reminded her. “So, this man thinks he can hold it over your head, but he’s wrong. You are still there, and your record was wiped, because they wanted you there. You do what you have to do for this child and to hell with Jonathon.”
It’s what she would have done anyway, but doing it with Matt by her side, believing in her took the fear out of it. He was right, Jonathon couldn’t hurt her. The school already knew. She curled up, safe in his arms, knowing as long as he was there, nothing could harm her.
Chapter Thirteen
Six months later, Aoife was sitting on her bedroom floor surrounded by boxes. Fiona came in with two glasses of wine and sat down beside her. She was acting as the quality control.
“Dump it,” she said as Aoife held up a skirt Fiona hadn’t seen her wear in years.
“But…”
“But nothing, you asked me here to do this. You won’t have space in Matt’s for all your clutter.”
“That’s it. I can’t do it. I can’t dump half of my life for a man.”
“Shut up and drink your wine. It’s not even fit for the charity bag, and you keep saying you’re not moving when we both know you are,” Fiona said, snatching the skirt from her and throwing it in the rubbish pile.
“Seriously, how do I know if it’s the right thing to do?”
“You don’t, you’re not psychic. But you have to take a chance in life. What if you say no and then he moves on? Do you want to lose him? To see him with another woman?”
“No.”
“Only an hour ago, you were going on and on about how great it would be to stop living between two places. And I swear, I was nearly getting sick on the gooey sweet things you were saying about him. You’re only moving in with the man. It’s not like you’re getting married. Honestly, I don’t know how he puts up with you. How many times has he proposed now?”
“A few times. What about this, keep or bin?” Aoife asked, changing the subject. They were skating on thin ice now.
“I never thought I would hear myself say this about Matt McDaid, but he has the patience of a saint.”
“He does not, and my ass bears the bruises to prove it,” Aoife replied, sticking her tongue out.
“He’d want to beat the backside of you first thing every morning, then again after lunch and dinner if he was to call you to heel,” Fiona laughed. “Seriously, I don’t know why you’re into that, but it’s your ass on the line. I didn’t think you would survive a week at his place when you got out of the hospital, but now you’re going back by choice. It’s obvious you love him, even if you don’t see it.”
Before she had time to reply, Aoife’s phone buzzed. She checked the message.
My office tomorrow at ten for a full prenuptial medical examination, Miss Devine. I want to ensure you are fully fit for the fortnight ahead.
Damn, his timing was good. She felt heat course through her entire body. All of her crazy doubts and insecurities evaporated, like they always did now when he was around. How could she not move in with him? He was everything she needed and then some. Hot, sexy, caring and loving. She was one lucky woman and there was no way she was letting him go. She quickly tapped in her reply, hoping her face wasn’t as flushed as it felt. Fuck it, she just had to tell Fiona.
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